


Today's Forecast

by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Happy Ending, Loneliness, Lonely Tony Stark, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Tony Angst, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Weather Forecaster Bucky Barnes, WinterIron Spring Fling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-06-08 00:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6830737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqen_hgar/pseuds/Finely%20Honed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loneliness had followed Tony Stark his entire life, so they were on pretty good terms. Ignoring those empty places inside of himself was easier once the day was in full swing, but the mornings had a way of slipping a knife between his ribs, and getting him right in the heart. </p><p>The last place Tony expected to find the cure for his condition was on TV, but now watching the morning weather report has become the highlight of his day. Well, it was less the weather, and more the <em>weatherman</em>. One look at Bucky Barnes making some adorably lame joke about umbrellas, all lopsided smile and sparkling eyes, and Tony was in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Today's Forecast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [siyuttov](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siyuttov/gifts).



> **Plot Prompt:** Tony wakes up super early every morning to watch the attractive weather man (Bucky) do the forecast on an early morning show broadcast. His friends notice and tease him about it. They eventually meet at a charity gala and/or when Tony becomes a guest on the show for a new invention/policy/whatever.  
>  **Short Prompt:** Soulmate AU (names, timers, first words, marks)
> 
> Thanks for the prompts, and I hope you enjoy the story, siyuttov!!!

With a grunt and a whine, Tony silenced his alarm, rolled himself out of bed, and staggered for the living room, the chill of the floor beneath his bare feet making him shiver, and pick up the pace. The couch felt impossibly far away, but he made it, flopping down onto the cushions while simultaneously grabbing the suit jacket he’d left behind the night before, pulling it over his legs as a makeshift blanket.

Waking up sucked. That’d always been the case for Tony, whether he’d actually gotten enough sleep or not, because no matter what was going on in his life, the return of consciousness invariably brought with it the unwelcome and almost debilitating awareness that he was still alone.

Loneliness had followed him his entire life. It was nothing new. They were on pretty good terms, actually. Once Tony was awake and in the swing of things, the ache faded to something dull, manageable, an ever present background hum he could drown out with work, friends, or sex. Well, maybe not so much with sex these days. The point was, usually Tony could find a way to ignore those empty places inside of himself once the day was in full swing, but morning had a way of slipping a knife between his ribs and getting him right in the heart.

Fumbling for the remote, Tony yawned and rubbed a hand across his face, desolation sitting heavily in his chest until the TV blinked on, flooding the darkened room with sound and flickering light. It was still a commercial, but any moment now…

“It’s officially too early to be awake, New York,” the morning show Adonis said, perfect teeth gleaming as he smiled for the camera, “but it’s _never_ too early for a little R &R.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony hit mute and drummed his fingers against his thigh, anticipation building as he watched Rogers and Romanov go through the insufferable banter that passed for the start of the show. It was five in the morning, there was only so much chirpiness he was capable of handling without wanting to puke. Besides, Tony didn’t need to know about what new diet fad they’d be talking about later in the show, or that they’d had a chance to sit down and interview the President’s dog. All he cared about was the weather.

The hollowed out sensation of loneliness began tightening its grip on Tony to the point of actual physical discomfort, until the two criminally attractive co-hosts finally wrapped it up. Tony smashed his thumb against the mute button and cranked up the volume, holding his breath in anticipation.

“—to start our day without a report from our very own Bucky Barnes!”

“That’s right, Steve,” Romanov said, her eyes looking particularly manic as she smiled into the camera. “Most of the meteorological community doesn't believe he exists. The ones that do call him the Winter Soldier. He’s credited with predicting over two dozen unique weather phenomena over the last five years, and you can only find him on _The R &R Morning Show_.”

Tony’s knee was bobbing incessantly, a little chant of, “Come on, come on, come on,” muttered under his breath as the camera cut over to a large digital display of New York City overlaid with clouds and various ridiculous icons. None of that mattered though. What mattered was the man standing in front of the display, shifting almost awkwardly as he turned to the camera, and smiled.

Immediately, Tony’s heart rate kicked into overdrive. He scooted to the edge of the couch, as if that would actually get him any closer to Barnes, and found himself smiling in return.

“Thanks, Natasha,” Barnes said, a slight rasp to his voice, and a tiny furrow in his brow, “but, ah, it’s just Bucky.”

“I know, seriously, why do they always feel the need to do that to you?” Tony asked the TV, relief washing through him.

The camera tightened on Bucky’s face, as he smiled adorably, and continued. “Good morning, New York.”

“Morning,” Tony answered automatically, chewing on his thumb.

“Many people looking for an extended period of rain-free weather in the eastern United States will have to wait a few more weeks…”

The weather report washed over Tony, the details already being purged from his mind, because in the grand scheme of things, they were trivial. The man delivering the report was another story altogether.

James Buchanan Barnes—aka Bucky—was not only drop dead gorgeous, he was also smart, genuinely funny, even a bit sarcastic at times, with the most perfect pale eyes, and an ever-so-slightly stubbled jaw. His mouth? Tony could talk about Bucky’s mouth for _hours_ , actually did once, which was why Bruce had forbade any future discussions of _R &R_ during lab time together.

Barnes was unlike anyone else Tony had ever seen on TV, especially on a cheesy morning show like the one currently responsible for making his life bearable. It wasn’t just the somewhat messy hair that hung to his shoulders, or the obvious awkwardness he displayed over being on camera. It wasn’t even that he actually talked like a normal person, Brooklyn accent and all, but that helped make him unique. Behind the scenes, he was a legitimate scientist with published research, which was like catnip to Tony.

He even had a tragic backstory. Bucky was a veteran—hence the really clever ‘soldier’ aspect of his morning show moniker—and missing an arm thanks to an IED. The left to be specific. Well, Tony supposed it wasn’t _missing_ , Bucky knew what had happened to it, but the end result was that his arm was gone, a shiny prosthetic having taken its place.

Bucky Barnes was the reason why Tony started each and every day watching _R &R_ at ass o’clock in the morning, regardless of what time he’d gone to bed. Hell, lately it seemed like the twenty some minutes Bucky was on screen during _R &R_ was the best part of Tony’s day. Because, for some reason Tony could not explain, seeing Barnes chased away that awful, empty feeling the way booze, sex, drugs, friends, or work had never been able to do.

Tony had stumbled onto the cure for his despondency purely by accident after stepping on the remote one morning while on the way to bed. The TV clicked on and there Bucky was, making some adorably lame joke about umbrellas, all lopsided smile and sparkling eyes, and just like that, Tony was in love. Well, lust, he supposed, since he was pretty sure you couldn’t be in love with someone you’d never met.

That had been over a year ago. Now, Tony couldn’t seem to function if he didn’t get his morning fix of Barnes, even if that meant the rest of his life was suffering due to the sleep deprivation he was dealing with. In the beginning, he’d tried to go back to bed after watching the report, but then the chasm of loneliness was just waiting for him all over again when he next opened his eyes, so… Better to deal with it once, let Bucky help him chase away the melancholy, and then cope with the exhaustion afterward. That’s what coffee was for, right?

“Guess that’s what coffee is for, right?” Bucky said, and Tony’s heart lurched dangerously in his chest.

“Stop messing with me, sweetheart,” Tony murmured.

“Speaking of which, this guy still owes me a cup after losing our bet last week. Hopefully the rest of you took my advice and prepared for that unseasonal hailstorm. Let’s go to our eye in the sky for traffic. How’s it looking up there, Falcon?”

For a strange, magical moment, the camera remained on Barnes, and to Tony it felt a lot like Bucky was looking _right at him_. There was still a smile lingering on his face as he seemingly stared into Tony’s eyes, lashes dipping for a moment as he worked his teeth into his bottom lip. Bucky’s mouth opened and Tony held his breath, convinced Barnes was about to do something insane, like say his name.

But then, in a flash, Bucky was gone, and Tony was left staring at a shot of backed up New York City traffic, exhaling in a rush.

“What the hell was that?” Settling back against the cushions, Tony tried to calm his racing heart. “Be more of a pathetic loser, Stark,” he snapped, dragging his hands through his hair. “Oh, right, that’s _impossible_.”

Except, an hour later, after he finished jerking off in the shower to thoughts of the weatherman’s smile, Tony realized that maybe he’d managed to sink even deeper into patheticness after all.

+

Halfway through his day, Tony burned himself by dozing off while soldering.

“You know, you could always DVR your show, get some sleep, and _then_ watch it,” Bruce suggested, sympathetic smile firmly in place.

Tony shook his head. “Tried it. Not the same.” He hissed and then sighed as Bruce finished applying the burn ointment. “I need to watch it live.”

“Might want to start sleeping at night then, at least.” Bruce gave Tony a pat on the back. “It was funny at first, but I’m actually worried about you now.”

“Thanks, Brucie-bear, but your concern is entirely unnecessary,” Tony swore. He slapped a grin on his face, spun on his heels, and headed back to the shop.

As soon as he was out of sight, the smile slid away.

+

“No, seriously, you have to be doing this on purpose,” Rhodey accused.

“Ha fucking ha.” Tony shook his extended hand, snapping his fingers as he frowned and dripped all over the floor. “Towel!”

Rhodey pulled back the towel just as Tony’s fingers brushed against the fabric. “You obsessively watch the weather, so how the hell are you _always_ unprepared for the day’s actual forecast?”

Tony opened his mouth, then squeaked, possibly pathetically, because Rhodey actually handed him the towel.

“He’s _that_ good looking?” Rhodey asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“No. Well, _yes_ , he’s perfect in every way, if you must know.” Tony scrubbed at his soaked clothes and flipped off no one in particular at the sound of thunder booming in the distance. “Forecasts are boring. If they let him talk applied meteorological numerical models on the show? I’d hang on every word.”

“When the dude tells you to bring an umbrella, bring an umbrella,” Rhodes insisted. “That’s all I’m saying.”

Tony couldn’t really argue with Rhodey’s logic, so he continued to dry himself off while getting lost to thoughts of that morning’s forecast. Thunderstorms had probably been mentioned, but Tony had been more preoccupied by how especially blue Bucky’s eyes had looked that morning, and the sloppy bun he’d pulled his hair into at the start of his report. More distracting than that, Sam ‘The Falcon’ Wilson had made a joke before the camera cut back over to Bucky, the end result of which was an on screen laugh. A real laugh, too, all rich and throaty, Bucky’s head tipped back and his eyes all crinkled up.

Unconsciously, Tony was smiling, warmth spreading through his chest over the memory.

“Tones?”

“Hm?”

Rhodey gave his shoulder a squeeze. “When’s the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”

“You’re the one with a newborn at home, and you’re worried about _me_ sleeping?” Tony countered, poking Rhodey’s shoulder. “Your eyes couldn’t be any more bloodshot if you tried. How is the little nugget, anyway?”

“Perfect,” Rhodey beamed. As expected, he fished out his phone and began showing Tony a dozen or so nearly identical photos of his baby girl, and the topic was dropped.

+

“But you and dad don’t have marks.”

“Not everyone does,” his mother explained patiently. “Only _very special_ people manifest a soulmark.”

Tony fidgeted, poking at the red star on his shoulder as if he could wipe it away. He was only five, but Tony already knew that _special_ didn’t necessarily correlate with _good_. “When will we meet?” 

“I don’t know, sweetie. Nobody does.”

His mother’s words made Tony feel strange and squirmy. “Then how do we find each other?”

“Well, if everything goes according to plan, it simply happens one day.”

“How do you know it’s your special someone when you meet?”

“You just _do_ , Tony.”

Tony didn’t like the sound of that at all. It was vague and messy. “Mom, does everyone meet their soulmate and live happily ever after?”

“ _Almost_ everyone.” Maria stroked his hair and smiled a sad little smile. “Don’t worry, Tony, it’s very rare that soulbonded pairs don’t meet.”

Feeling scared, Tony covered up his soulmark with his shirtsleeve and pushed his fingers at his chest, wanting to shove aside the awful feeling lodged there, deep under the skin. “But some people… some don’t _ever_?” The look in Maria Stark’s eyes was answer enough. “I wish I didn’t have it then! Can’t you take it back?”

“I’m sorry, it doesn’t work like that, Tony.”

He’d cried then, before his father came home and called him a baby, cried in his mother’s arms, terrified that the feeling wasn’t ever going to go away.

Eventually, he’d gotten used to it all—the strange new mark and the clawing emptiness—mostly because Tony could convince himself that the loneliness was a temporary state of affairs.

Research helped put him at ease. As his mother had said, most people really did meet their mate, although there were always going to be anomalies. One member of the bonded pair dying was the most likely reason for not meeting, but there were soulmark databases that allowed you to search through the marks of the deceased if you suspected that was the case. Then there were the even rarer, stranger instances of individuals born with multiple mates, cases of soulmate rejection, or those who lost their marks later in life.

Early on, Tony was able to take comfort in the understanding that he had plenty of time to meet his soulmate. In fact, 74% of the marked didn’t meet their mate until they were in their twenties. Only, before he quite knew what had happened, his twenties slipped away without any sign of his mate. That’s when the worrying really began. The odds of meeting grew increasingly smaller the older you got, so that about mid-way through his thirties Tony was left with the sinking, awful realization that he’d probably met his soulmate—maybe more than once, even—and had fucked it up somehow.

By the time his fortieth birthday rolled around, Tony resigned himself to being in the 3% club, with all the losers who would never find the other half of themselves. This also meant admitting he was going to spend whatever was left of his life feeling like a piece of shitty craftsmanship, all jagged edges and missing pieces, doomed to a less-than existence.

+

“Nice try, Stevie, but no matter how much you beg, we’re still not gonna see any thundersnow,” Bucky teased, “only regular ol’ freezing rain.”

Tony grinned stupidly at his TV, wrapped up in a blanket, cup of coffee cradled against his chest. “Visit the Great Lakes if you want thundersnow so bad, Rogers.”

“Now, if we were over in the Great Lakes area, I might be able to hook you up,” Bucky added, smiling wolfishly into the camera and winking. Tony smiled back, feeling warm, and safe, and a little less alone.

+

Considering his resources, it was somewhat surprising that Tony hadn’t pulled some strings in order to get himself a face to face with the weatherman of his dreams. He had enough money to buy the production company without batting an eye, could have easily gotten a guest spot for one of the interview segments, and yet, he opted to keep his distance instead.

While it was tempting, meeting would only serve to remind Tony that he wasn’t even a blip on Bucky’s radar. Sitting on his couch, Tony could _pretend_ they were friends, which wasn’t much, but it was still better than nothing.

Besides, what was the best that could come out of meeting his crush, anyway? Bucky would politely shake his hand, and they’d make awkward small talk until somebody called Barnes away, and Tony got a, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Stark.” And that would be that. His morning ritual would be ruined and he’d have nothing to look forward to when waking up.

Because he was well adjusted and not in any way pathetic, Tony had actively avoided digging up personal details on Barnes. He restricted himself to reading the man’s contributions to the field in various meteorological journals, mostly because it would crush him into dust if he came across something he didn’t want to know. Like, what if Barnes was actually a huge jerk? He could be a weirdo that got off on kicking puppies, and stumbling from one bed to another, leaving a string of broken hearts in his monstrous wake. Hell, for all Tony knew, the guy was happily married and had a couple kids or something.

Tony didn’t want to know about _any_ of that; it would shatter the illusion. So he kept his searches safe, kept up his one-sided conversations with the television, and considered himself lucky to have found anything that helped him cope with his condition.

+

So, of course, his friends had to go and ruin everything.

“Surprise,” Pepper whispered cheerfully against his ear, tightening her grip on his arm.

It was a good thing Rhodey was holding onto him from the other side, because Tony’s legs had stopped working, along with his heart, and his lungs, and everything else. Not only was walking out of the question, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to stay on his feet without the support of his friends.

“What the hell is this?” Tony hissed, all the blood draining out of his face. He grabbed hold of Rhodey’s arm, feeling as if he might start hyperventilating.

Across the room, nestled amidst a sea of well dressed gala attendees, was Bucky fucking Barnes. Even from a distance, his eyes seemed to sparkle, the sound of his laugh carrying through the crowd, hitting Tony low in the gut, making him break out in gooseflesh.

“I thought you said that was the guy?” Pepper asked in hushed tones, Rhodey immediately replying, “It _is_ the guy, Pep. It’s not like there’s another one-armed weatherman on _The R &R Morning Show_.”

“Yeah, no, I gotta get out of here,” Tony squeaked, but his legs still weren’t working.

Rhodey shook his head. “No way, I’m not letting you miss your chance.”

“It occurs to me, I’m pretty sure I recognized your babysitter. Definitely on some government watch list, possibly a terrorist in disguise. We should go check, make sure everything’s okay.”

Pepper and Rhodey began moving, and not for the door, taking Tony along for the ride. “Oh no, we’re not leaving until you meet your crush,” Pepper insisted.

“Are you kidding me?” Tony all but shouted. Wincing, he tried again. “This is going to be _embarrassing_ , Pepper, not romantic. You realize this, right? He’s probably as straight as the—”

“He’s gay,” Rhodey interrupted. “He’s on the cover of this month’s issue of _Out_ , which I assumed you saw, since you’re obsessed with Barnes.”

Tony opened his mouth, but nothing came out. There was panic, sure, but also something else entirely. Something far, _far_ worse. Hope. Bucky Barnes was gay. Not only that, he was in the same room, breathing the same air as Tony! Could he really leave now without at least getting close enough to find out what Bucky smelled like? Without having a conversation with the guy? Without potentially hearing Bucky say his name? Maybe they’d hit it off, and actually become friends, or _more_ , and—

Apparently, the sensation of Bucky growing closer hadn’t been a result of Tony’s overactive imagination. Pepper and Rhodey had been steadily marching him across the room, meaning he was now close enough that Tony could see the delicious little dimple in Bucky’s chin. As carefully as possible, Tony shook off Pepper and Rhodey, and after a moment of hurried, whispered arguing between the three of them, Tony found himself given a little shove between the shoulder blades, which sent him stumbling toward Bucky.

Taking a deep breath, Tony used the momentum to carry himself forward, walking the last few feet on his own before coming to a halt, spinning off to the side, and trying to work up the courage to interrupt the conversation Bucky was having.

“Yeah, it’s okay, but I’d really like to have more time to focus on my research,” Bucky was saying, a glass of champagne in his hand and a tight smile on his face.

The man chatting with Barnes was standing much too close for Tony’s liking, but that wound up working to his advantage a moment later. Bucky tried to shift in order to give himself some more personal space, but the creep just crowded right in again. This time, when Bucky stepped backwards in an attempt to escape the close talker, he stepped on Tony.

“Shit, sorry,” Barnes said, turning to apologize. Bucky’s eyes went wide. “Hey, you’re Tony Stark!”

Oh, and that was just… _Wow_. Indescribable. Bucky Barnes was smiling down at him, had said his name, sounded excited to meet him! Somehow, the beautiful bastard was even better looking in person. Tony was getting blissed out over being able to finally gaze into the pale blue of Bucky’s eyes, never wanted to stop.

The sound of the crowd around them seemed to fall away, like a moment from the movies, leaving Tony hyperaware of how loud his own breathing had become. Bucky had asked him a question, one with an easy answer, but he was too preoccupied by the surreality of being so close to Bucky Barnes to respond properly.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Bucky asked.

“Huh? No, I’m—” Tony shook his head, then went into press mode autopilot. “Sorry, yeah, Tony Stark. Nice to meet you. Bucky Barnes, right?”

“Yeah,” Bucky answered, his entire face lighting up in a pretty spectacular way. There was something magnificent going on with his eyes, leaving him sort of dazed looking, as his cheeks flushed pink. “I can’t believe you know who I am. This is… Wow, I… Sorry, I’m not normally this lame, it’s just I’m a _huge_ fan.”

Tony grinned back stupidly. “Really?”

Bucky opened his mouth to reply, but the guy he’d been talking to interrupted. “Excuse me, but we were in the middle of a conversation, Mr. Stark. If you wouldn’t mind?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was I _interrupting_?” Tony asked perhaps a touch aggressively, trying to murder the man with his eyes.

“No, definitely not,” Bucky insisted, snagging Tony’s wrist with the shiny fingers of his prosthetic hand, as if scared Tony might run away. He pivoted and lowered his voice to a dangerous growl. “Seriously, pal, you gotta learn to pick up on social cues. This guy’s a personal hero of mine, wanna back the fuck off, and let me have my fanboy moment?”

Tony couldn’t decide what was better, Bucky Barnes touching him, or getting to see how incredibly sexy he was when angry. They didn’t let him get pissed off on TV, and all sorts of new and interesting things were happening with his face, and his voice, and his body language. Of course, Tony was also stuck dealing with an awful, overwhelming urge to throw himself into Bucky’s arms and kiss him senseless, but he managed to resist. Barely.

After some indignant huffing, the other guy shuffled off, and Bucky turned back around, unfortunately letting go of Tony in the process. “Sorry, that was,” he stammered, gesturing toward the departing figure. “I swear, I’m not normally all over the place like this.”

“I liked it,” Tony answered. Bucky’s eyes went wide, his perfect mouth opening in surprise. “Err, what I mean is, I’ve been there before, trapped in an awful conversation, with no end in sight. It’s the worst. Sometimes people really can’t take a hint, am I right?”

“Oh.” Bucky’s smile flickered around the edges, and he ducked his head a bit before polishing off the rest of his drink and placing it on a passing waiter’s tray. “Uh, okay. I should, um, probably let you mingle then.”

“What?” Tony replayed his words, and realized what had happened, made a grab for Barnes before he could get away. “No, that’s wasn’t— I _want_ to talk to you. I meant that other guy, the close talker. Not you. You couldn’t ever be annoying.”

Getting to watch the smile slide back onto Bucky’s face was a gift. “Oh! Awesome.”

The two of them stood there grinning at each other like idiots, until Tony realized he was still holding onto Bucky’s arm and let go, prompting them both to laugh. For the first time in a long time, Tony felt light, happy, carefree. If watching Bucky on the TV was soothing, being in such close proximity was like standing in the sunshine after years of being trapped in darkness. He felt warm, and content, and a lot like he needed to buy his friends extravagant gifts for having set this up.

“I really enjoyed your article in the _Journal of Applied Meteorology and Climatology_ last year,” Tony blurted, while at the same time, Bucky said, “The data comin’ in from SI’s new polar orbiting satellite is amazing!”

After another round of nervous laughter, Bucky shook his head and cleared his throat, looking fiercely proud and shy all at once. “I can’t believe you read my article.”

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s _fascinating_ ,” Tony gushed, unable to help himself. “Actually, er, your research is what inspired me to greenlight the new satellite project in the first place.”

“Nah, you’ve gotta be messin’ with me,” Bucky said, eyes crinkling up adorably at the sides. “I’ve never met anyone out in the wild actually interested in cloud microphysics.”

“First time for everything.” Tony was having trouble not staring at Bucky’s mouth like a starving man. “I’m being honest though, you really did inspire me. I never miss your forecasts.”

Bucky’s teeth worried at his lower lip for a moment, and Tony thought he might actually start crying from longing.

“Why? All I do is remind people to bring an umbrella with them.”

“Sure, but then you go and have your way with X-band polarimetric radar observations of winter storms in northeastern Colorado,” Tony pointed out, whooping internally with triumph when Bucky’s eyes went wide.

“Now that’s plain old unfair,” Bucky drawled.

They were standing incredibly close. Tony had no idea when that had happened, but his head was tilted up in order to maintain eye contact as a result, making it feel an awful lot like they were about to kiss. Somewhere, music was playing, leaving Tony with the oddest impulse to ask Bucky to dance. Everything was bright, and wonderful, and better than anything Tony had ever imagined possible, so of course it had to all go horribly wrong on him.

“There you are,” a familiar voice called. Bucky turned, and quickly stepped out of Tony’s personal space, grinning nervously as an incredibly attractive man sauntered over, and draped an arm around his shoulders. “You promised you weren’t gonna ditch me. You know I hate these things, man.”

“Sorry, Sam, some creep cornered me,” Bucky grinned, an arm sliding around the newcomer’s waist. “Guess who I met?” he said excitedly, not giving Sam a chance to answer. “Tony Stark!”

Handsome finally noticed Tony standing there and glanced between the two of them, something shifting in his expression. “Careful with this one,” he said, placing a hand on Bucky’s chest. “Stare into those steely blue eyes of his too long and it starts looking a lot like home.”

Tony blinked and wondered what was happening on his face, because it felt a lot like his heart had just plunged straight down through his body, punched through the floor, and wound up lodged somewhere near the Earth’s core.

“C’mon, Sam,” Bucky said, ducking his head, “you’re embarrassing me. Mr. Stark, this is Sam Wilson, our eye in the sky over on _R &R_.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Sam said, extending his hand.

Somehow, Tony managed to shake Sam’s hand without crushing it, or crying all over himself. “The Falcon, of course,” Tony all but mumbled, feeling like his tongue was exceptionally thick in his mouth. “You and Bucky share all the witty banter. Nice to meet you.”

“In case he hasn’t made it painfully obvious, my partner here is a huge fan of yours,” Sam announced, giving Bucky a little shake. “Did you ask for an autograph yet?”

“Shut up.” Bucky gave Sam a playful shove, Sam’s arm slipping from around his shoulders in the process.

Not sure what else to do, Tony shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced around, wondering where Rhodey and Pepper had wound up. There was only so much of Bucky and Sam flirting he could handle witnessing before he did something mortifying, like burst into tears and run away.

“Alright, I’ll just leave you two alone then,” Sam said, holding his hands up in surrender. There was a flurry of nonverbal communication between the two before Sam said, “Nice to meet you,” to Tony, and, “Behave,” to Bucky.

Bucky watched him go, grinning, before refocusing on Tony. “Sorry about that, he’s a brat. Uh, right, so where were we?”

“No, it’s fine,” Tony swore, swallowing past the lump in his throat. It wasn’t fair that even as his heart was breaking, being so close to Bucky made him feel exactly as Sam had said it would. Like he was home. “I should, um. My friends, they’re around here somewhere. And, your partner doesn’t like to fly solo, so.”

“Oh.” Bucky’s expression clouded over, brows furrowing. “Yeah, of course. Um, I’m sure you’re busy.”

Tony nodded. “No rest for the wicked. Nice talking to you.”

Neither of them seemed to be moving, though, so with a herculean effort, Tony took a step backwards. “Yeah, same,” Bucky’s hand shot forward, a look of desperation on his face. “Really, it was an honor.”

The feeling of Bucky’s palm against his own as they shook hands was sublime, left Tony shaken and uncertain. Letting go was difficult, but somehow Tony managed, feeling as if the ground was unsteady beneath his feet.

“Bye,” he rasped.

Bucky nodded, then the two drifted away from each other. “Hey, Tony,” Barnes called. Tony looked over his shoulder, and tried to process the heartbroken look on Bucky’s face. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Tony assumed it was meant to be a playful comment—it wasn’t like Bucky knew how he started his days—but he might as well have crushed Tony’s heart in his hand. He all but staggered away, hardly able to see through his tears.

“Well?” Pepper asked, rushing over. She and Rhodey were holding hands and watching Tony expectantly.

“Well,” Tony said, sucking air in through his teeth. “He’s perfect in every possible way and I want to spend the rest of my life staring into his eyes.” Before either of them could comment on this announcement, Tony added, “Oh, and his partner seems really nice, too, so. There’s that.”

And then he left.

+

The alarm went off, but Tony was already awake, mostly because he hadn’t slept at all. He’d gone to bed as soon as he got home, but found himself lying there, staring at the ceiling for hours, feeling increasingly as if someone was crushing his chest in a vise.

Tony had thought it was bad before, but now he felt _impossibly_ worse. It was like that sharp pang of waking had grown fangs, had torn him to pieces from the inside. The loneliness was eating at him in a way it had never done before, making each breath a struggle.

Somehow, he’d made it through the night and now it was time for his morning ritual, only Tony couldn’t seem to find the energy to get out of bed. So he didn’t. He squeezed his eyes shut, rolled over, and wondered how the hell he was meant to survive now.

+

Eventually, Tony realized he needed to go back to work before Pepper sent people to check on him. It was bad enough without doctors or good meaning friends witnessing him having a breakdown because of how his crush on the weatherman had turned out.

He managed to drag himself to the kitchen and eat something. It was flavorless, pointless. Coffee was next. Shower. Dress. Get in the elevator. Go to his car. Traffic. Arrive at SI. Head into the shop. And…

 _Nothing_. None of his projects appealed to him. Tony couldn’t seem to get his thoughts in order, everything moving sluggishly, ideas colliding in his mind, leaving him unable to find a clear path forward.

At some point, he realized Bruce was talking to him. “Hm?”

“I asked what’s going on with _R &R_,” Bruce said, the concern clear on his face. Tony blinked at him. “You didn’t watch it this morning?”

Tony’s heart began beating faster, tears prickling his eyes. “No. I’m, um, I’m done with that.”

Bruce stepped closer and clasped his shoulder, lowered his voice. “Tony, are you okay?”

“Always,” Tony answered, trying for a smile. “Why?”

“You seem really off,” Bruce said. He tugged the glasses off of his face and began cleaning them. “Since when did you stop watching _R &R_?”

“When did you start?” he countered.

“I always watched,” Bruce said, “I just wasn't interested in having hour long conversations about the weatherman’s mouth. He’s going to get fired if he keeps it up, by the way. That’s two days in a row now.”

Tony’s heart began racing, and he sat up in his seat. “What are you talking about?”

“The forecast was for clear skies and sunshine, but he went on some strange, depressing rant about thunderstorms, umbrellas, and feeling like a satellite burning up on reentry. Yesterday was also doom and gloom.”

“Sounds about right,” Tony murmured. Outside, beyond the glass of the floor to ceiling windows, the sun was shining in the sky, but to Tony it looked rather bleak.

“Maybe you should go home, get some rest,” Bruce suggested, giving Tony’s shoulder another squeeze.

“You might be right.”

+

Tony was already sitting on the couch with the remote in hand when his alarm went off. He turned on the TV, already knowing it wasn’t going to help. If anything, seeing Bucky was going to make things worse, but Tony had been unable to stop thinking of what Bruce had said.

It might have been his imagination, but Rogers and Romanov looked unsettled as they went through the start of the show. Twitchy around the eyes, maybe, their smiles forced and unnatural. Tony hit unmute and dragged a hand across his face, feeling like he hadn’t slept in years.

“—day with the weather.”

Tony found his eyes widening in shock when the camera cut to Bucky. He looked about as bad as Tony felt, skin waxy, eyes red rimmed, dull, and lifeless. His hair was a mess, and he hadn’t shaved.

“Mornin’, New York City,” Bucky rasped, the words sounding like they’d been dragged out of the depths of his soul. “Here we go again. Another day. More weather.” With a sigh, Bucky turned to look at something—a teleprompter perhaps—then shook his head, and shrugged. One of his hands touched his earpiece and then he laughed, swiping at his eyes. “I know, Stevie, I just… I don’t see the point. It’s gonna happen whether I tell ‘em about it or not.” Bucky turned back to the camera. “Look out your window, or step outside. Clouds again. Big surprise. Do you really need _me_ to figure out you should bring an umbrella with you today?”

“What the hell happened, Bucky?” Tony asked, standing up and taking a couple steps closer to the TV. He’d expected to feel worse seeing the object of his affection, knowing Sam was the one keeping Bucky warm at night, but that wasn’t the case at all. Bucky looked like he’d gone off the rails, but seeing his face again was breathing life back into Tony.

As if looking into Tony's eyes, Bucky stared into the camera. “They already told me I’m gettin’ fired if I keep it up, so this is probably my last forecast,” he said, Adam’s apple bobbing. “So, hey, Tony? You out there? You still watching? I’m not gonna get another chance, so I hope you’re there.”

“I’m here,” Tony said, placing a hand on the TV. He knew Bucky couldn’t hear him, but that had never stopped him before.

“I know the odds are astronomical,” Bucky said, “but ever since we met the other night, everything’s been different. First it was the good kind, but then something happened and you walked away—”

Tony was holding his breath and let it out in a ragged cry of annoyance when the camera cut away from Bucky and instead showed Romanov and Rogers sitting at the news desk, wide eyed and uncomfortable.

“Ah, sorry about that, folks,” Rogers said nervously. “Bucky’s having a rough day.”

“He did seem to be under the weather,” Romanov added, then pulled a face, and glared into the camera. “ _Really_?”

Behind them, Barnes burst into view, clutching a sheet of paper in his metal hand. “Tony,” he shouted, leaning over Rogers, and grabbing his lapel mic. “Does this look familiar?”

A single red star was scribbled onto the piece of paper held in Bucky’s shaking hand. “I think you’re my—” and then _R &R_ cut to a commercial.

For a minute, Tony stood there unmoving, holding onto his left shoulder and breathing heavily as he watched an advertisement for dish soap. The next, the reality of what was happening slammed home, and Tony was running for the door.

+

Despite weaving recklessly through early morning traffic and driving almost fifty miles over the speed limit at points, it still felt like it took Tony years to get to the studio where they filmed _R &R_.

“Tony, please don’t get yourself killed,” Pepper swore over the speakers of the car. “I called ahead and security is bringing him to the lobby. They won't let him leave until you get there.”

“I can’t risk it,” Tony swore, whipping around a turn, spotting his destination in the distance. “I’m here, love you, bye!”

Tony parked his car and climbed out just as the skies opened up, and began dumping torrential rain down upon the city. He was was soaked in an instant, t-shirt and pajama bottoms plastered to his skin, but Tony didn’t care. He was too busy running for the doors to the lobby, where thankfully Pepper had called ahead to warn them that an agitated billionaire was going to make an appearance.

“Mr. Stark,” someone called, and Tony whirled around in time to see the elevators opening, and Bucky stepping through the doors, head hanging low. He was flanked by several security guards, and holding a cardboard box.

“Bucky!”

Bucky’s head whipped up, his eyes going wide, and then he was shaking off the guards, the box tossed aside as he took off running across the lobby. Tony must have been doing the same thing, because they collided with each other, the air almost knocked out of Tony’s lungs as Bucky grabbed hold of him, and held on tight.

“You came,” he gasped, entire body shaking. “I didn’t know if you were watching!”

There it was again, that warm safe feeling, flooding through Tony’s body, clearing away the awful emptiness, and leaving him shaking with relief. He dug his fingers into the muscles of Bucky’s back, holding on tight, trying and failing to get the whirlwind of his mind under control.

“Was I right?” Bucky asked, pulling back to look into Tony’s eyes, desperation evident. Tony could only nod, but that was enough. Bucky fumbled at his shoulder, pulled the damp fabric of Tony’s t-shirt aside, and smiled the most beautiful smile Tony had ever seen. “It’s there! The mark, it’s really there!”

Bucky’s mouth was on Tony’s in an instant, and it was like every good thing in the world distilled into a single point of physical contact. Tony melted into the kiss, holding onto Bucky’s shoulders, then his face, a hand sliding up to fist in his hair as they swayed together in the lobby. Tony and Bucky laughed, and cried, clung to each other, until from somewhere nearby, there was a cheer, and the two pulled apart.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Sam whooped, high-fiving Steve Rogers.

“Congratulations, Bucky,” Steve called, waving at them. Natasha was there, too, as was a camera crew.

As the news anchors began explaining what was happening to the people at home, Tony refocused his attention on Bucky. “But I thought… What about Sam, isn't he your partner?”

“Yeah, my _work_ partner,” Bucky said, “and supposedly my wing man, only that didn't work out so much, did it?” Bucky's eyes filled with tears. “Meeting you in person threw me for such a loop that it wasn't until later I realized… But then you were gone. _Tony_.”

They kissed again, less urgent this time, swaying together. In a whispered rush, Bucky explained how he had photos of Tony at home, how he would watch old interviews obsessively whenever the loneliness was too much to bear, much as Tony had done with the weather forecast. Bucky had never expected there was more to his celebrity crush, and didn't begin to suspect the truth until after the gala, when the symptoms of a bond rejection began to manifest.

“I'd never reject you,” Tony gushed. “I might not let you out of my sight ever again! This is—”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, pressing at the center of his chest. “I didn't know anything could feel so perfect.”

“What do you say, want to spend the rest of your life with me?” Tony asked, already knowing the answer.

“When do we start?"

With a laugh, Bucky took Tony by the hand and headed for the door before the _R &R_ crew demanded an interview with the newly soulbonded couple. They were almost outside when Bucky squeezed Tony's hand, and burst out laughing.

“What?”

“I just noticed you're soaking wet. Where's your umbrella?” Tony’s mouth hung open, and Bucky only laughed harder. “Don't worry. I'll make sure you never leave without one again.”

To Tony, that sounded a lot like happily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> How do I always wind up writing soulmarks/mates for our seasonal fic celebrations?! A big shout out to our [Winteriron Spring Fling](http://winterironspringfling.tumblr.com/) organizers, participants, readers... All y'all! *hugs*


End file.
